Bucky Stories
by Created to Write
Summary: I love Bucky. He's great. So, I'm making one-shots based off of him. (Marvel owns the character and everything else.)
1. I Don't

**I own nothing. This is Marvel's character and Marvel's alone.**

**Ever wondered what Bucky was thinking after saving Cap? Well, I wrote it down. Enjoy!**

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I look in the mirror. Hydra's Asset looks back at me. I lift the scissors in my hand and turn from my reflection. I cut the long hair the best I can without it. I _don't_ want to be him.

Without looking at myself, I get in the shower. I won't admit it to anyone, but I'm terrified of being covered by still water. It feels like at any moment it could freeze over and I wake up. All this would become a dream: the best one I've ever had. I'd be the Asset again. So I take showers instead of baths. Because I _don't_ want to be him.

The water runs off my shoulders, making a light clink on my metal arm. It reminds me of one of my first memories to resurface: my fall. Seeing the train get smaller, with it my best friend. That is the same friend I almost killed with my metal arm, twice. But I still have him around, if he'll forgive me. 'to the end of the line' we said. He freed me from a life of killing. I owe him for that. I _don't_ want to kill again.

I scrub all over, like the sponge, cloth, and soap can erase seventy years of torture and deadly missions. I wash my face the most. As the Asset, I removed all emotion. My face doesn't know how to show it anymore. It feels stiff. I massage it and watch the black tinted water run down the drain. I _don't_ want to wear a mask anymore.

I step out of the shower and try to look at my reflection. But the mirror is all foggy. I only used hot water because cold was a bad memory. The Asset was a cold blooded killer. His emotions were frozen. The ice the covered him between missions was freezing. His nickname, the Winter Soldier, was cold. I _don't_ want to be him.

I ignore the foggy mirror and dry off. My eye catches the picture of the black, one-sleeved uniform I wore for Hydra. It was slumped over a chair by the wall. I stuff it in an empty basket. I ball up my sopping towel and throw it over it. I _don't_ want to see it again.

I slip into a shirt and pair of slacks I was given. I turn back to the mirror to see a different face. This one I remember well. I smile and he returns it. His eyes are tired, but I understand. He has been fighting for seventy years trying to get memories to resurface and free me mentally from Hydra's power. It's working, he's done it. Because I remember. _He_ is who I want to be, who I really am:

_Bucky Barnes_.

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**Yes I know kind of short. But it was a 'spur of the moment' kind of idea.**

**I love the Bucky/Steve bromance relationship because he was there for Steve and now Steve is there for Bucky. How they never give up on each other.**

**If you have any questions PM me. I'd love to hear feedback.**


	2. The Arm

**Disclaimer: I saw Winter Soldier and that snippet of Bucky in the snow with a bloody shoulder and got this idea. So, my idea of what happened to Bucky between his fall and being dragged.**

**And FYI, the soldiers here speak German. I mention it once.**

* * *

A patrol group is scouting below where the train tracks pass through the mountains. If anyone would try to get to them, they would have to climb down the steep cliff and cross the valley to reach them. The very valley they are patrolling. If they manage to do that, there's the other side of the ravine to scale. But nothing gets past Hydra.

A silver blur comes up behind the group. They look up to see it pass and spot three figures in the air on a wire. Even from the ground they could see the distinct red, white, and blue shield on the first ones back. "Captain America!" One exclaims in German. The wire is headed to the approaching trains track. The soldier that recognized the enemy first lifts his gun to shoot. But another pulls it down.

"Your gun won't get them. They are too far away, dummkopf." He growls. "Best is too wait and see if one falls. Unless you want to climb up and shoot them then." The first, a private, shakes his head. "Let's follow." They all hop into their vehicles and follow the thin trail worn out on the ravine floor. At top speed, they can keep up with the bullet train.

"Look!" Someone says after a good ten minutes. "On the side!" They all look to see a form dangling off the side of the sleek train. Another is leaning out trying to reach it. But doesn't make it in time.

The first figure falls. The patrol stops and watches the body get bigger, a scream filling the expanse of air. It hits a few things on the way to the floor. The train disappears from view. "Let's go see who it is." The private suggests.

"Okay, you stay with the jeep." One says and everyone else starts climbing the ravine wall. They look for what they believe to be a corpse.

"Over here!" A third in the party says. His black clad patrolmen climb over to the ledge he's on. The body landed on it's side. He wore a blue jacket and had brown ruffled hair. His eyes were closed. "Not the Captain though." He calls.

"Well then who is it?" The highest ranking soldier, who bullied the private earlier, asks. The soldier at the ledge looks at the American again.

"I can't tell." Most of the group, a full five men total, gathered on the ledge or ones nearby. The leader squats near the American.

"Is he alive?" One checks his pulse.

"Yes, his pulse is weak, but he'll live." The fallen groans in response to someone moving him.

"I know him." One says. Everyone else looks at him. "It's Sergeant James Barnes. He was the one that was successful in the experiments when their 107th was captured." The others look back at Barnes. "That explains why he survived."

"The Red Skull will want to meet him."

"Look, his arm is stuck." The Sergeant's arm is lodged in a crack in the rock. They can only see up to his shoulder. The sharp edges bite into his skin about two or three inches into his skin and blood coats his shoulder. The blood follows up the rock fracture to the wide opening where his arm must have entered the crevice.

"He won't be able to use it again." One says, almost sympathetic. "And we have to get him out or his comrades will find him."

"Yeah, they'll be looking for him."

"So, how do we get him out?" The leader smirks and flicks his pocket knife out.

"We cut it off." Two others smile too and take their knives out to a razor sharp blade, one cuts the rock away so they can reach the cut already made. The American groans again.

"What 're you..." He mumbles in a Brooklyn accent. Then the first cut is made. The others clamp down on his to keep him from moving or making sound. His muffled screams don't make it to his teammates.

The arm is severed and they half drag the sergeant back to the jeep. The trail of blood is covered. Before they continue on their course, one shoots the rocks and snow above the red crack and sends an avalanche over the evidence of the fall. "On to base." The leader says to their injured prize,"to meet your maker, _soldier_."

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**Dummkopf- stupid, idiot (For those who don't know German.)**

**So, am I cruel or what? I don't want this to happen to Bucky, but I learned and I quote, 'don't got easy on your characters.' I think that applies for other's characters too.**


End file.
